


Making an Omelet

by RoseFrederick



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Case Fic, Crossover, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Monster of the Week, Trope Bingo Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8427913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseFrederick/pseuds/RoseFrederick
Summary: When they're on a case looking for strange monsters in the sewers of a town in Kentucky, the Winchester boys run into someone else on the same hunt.  Which makes things a little interesting when it turns out the monster's pheromones also effect people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> While the town Sam and Dean visit in this fic exists, I've done no more extensive research into its particulars than the SPN writers tend to do for the towns in the show, so I apologize to anybody from the area for anything grossly wrong.

“So, you got anything?” These are the first words Dean speaks as he reenters their motel room. Sam glances up briefly at his brother from his laptop where he's sitting at the small table in front of the window. He'd heard the distinctive sound of the car's engine pulling up and shutting off a few moments ago, and behind Dean he can see the overcast late spring afternoon illuminating the cracked gray asphalt of the parking lot and the Impala gleaming under a sheen of rain droplets. Dean's jacket and hair likewise look a little damp as he kicks the door shut behind him, juggling several bags of takeout between his hands. 

Dean plops one of the bags next to the laptop and sets the others on the opposite side of the table before shrugging off his coat. He tosses it across the end of the nearest bed and sprawls in the room's other dining chair. Sam, who has been waiting patiently for Dean to get back with food for a while now, replies absently to the question while digging out his meal, “Might have found a couple possibilities.” 

“Woah, Sam, tamp down on the enthusiasm, man,” Dean says between mouthfuls. 

They'd finished their hunt here a couple of days ago. Since then, the lack of any new destination and the relentlessly crappy weather have made the room seem even smaller than it is and left their tempers a bit more volatile than normal. It's one of the reasons Dean went out to get food for them alone for a few hours instead of heading out together to eat somewhere. Sam knows Dean _probably_ isn't trying to aggravate him on purpose, but – Sam gives a belabored sigh. 

“Don't be a jerk, Dean.” Dean makes a face and Sam ignores it to explain what he's found while Dean was out. “I've got what could be a wendigo in Montana – although with the few details in the reports I'd put equal bets on it just being a grizzly. Definitely got a werewolf in Seattle, but the full moon isn't for more than two weeks so I think we should pass that one on to Bobby. Last, I've got some weird reports of strange scaled, dog-like creatures in northern Kentucky.”

“Lizard dogs?” Dean asks, interest clearly piqued. 

“Like I said,” Sam pauses to read back over what he has pulled up on the screen. “Got about six different reports of people getting attacked by the things around town and at least four more possible sightings. There seem to be at least two of the creatures, and there haven't been any deaths yet, but at least four people got mauled bad enough to require overnight hospital stays.”

“Definitely sounds like our kind of weird,” Dean says, pointing at him with a fry for emphasis. “Any idea what the mystery creature feature is?” 

“Not really,” Sam says, frown lines appearing on his forehead as the corners of his mouth likewise turn down. “The details from witness reports are pretty vague – glowing eyes, dark colored and scaly. Without talking to them in person, I can't tell if they didn't get a good enough look or if they didn't want to sound crazy – crazier. Nothing obvious enough to point to something specific in the lore.” 

“So. Kentucky,” Dean says decisively, and takes a big bite of his burger.

Two days later they're checking into a motel called The Laid Inn just outside of Ashland, Kentucky. Given the excessive amount of wood paneling in the room and the hideously orange carpet, it can't possibly have been redecorated since the seventies. Before arriving at the motel, they'd stopped at a gas station on the edge of town where Sam had noticed and grabbed a local paper with news of another attack last night. After they get their belongings situated around the room, Sam reads out details from the pertinent article while Dean pulls out their Fed suits. 

According to the paper, a trio of teenage siblings messing around in the woods behind their house a few hours after sunset saw what they thought was a 'weird looking stray dog' at the edge of the trees. One of the boys tried to coax the animal out of the woods, and was jumped by a second animal when he got too close to the tree line. His siblings tried to help pull the creature off, and ultimately two of the three boys ended up with more than a hundred stitches. Despite the seriousness of the attack, the article makes light of the fact that all three boys claimed the creature had glowing eyes, fur so matted it was like scales, and the youngest swore it had too many legs. 

The two of them get changed and leave the room behind, taking along the list of all the previous victims with the new names added in at the bottom. The weather on the drive up has been a lot nicer and it's a breezy and sunny morning. That in combination with having a new case to focus on has significantly improved both brothers' moods. Even in the face of what is probably going to be an exceptionally long day of witness interviews.

Several hours of interviews later, they have only a little more information than they started out with. Unlike the teenage boys attacked the night before, most of the victims are pragmatic enough to have convinced themselves what they saw really were odd-looking stray dogs since their initial reports. It takes some delicate coaxing to get any helpful details to put together a better general description of the creatures beyond vicious and 'actually a dog, what else could it be?' Aside from clearly indicating the beasts are nocturnal and possibly sensitive to bright light in general, it does not help that all of the attacks occurred after dark in poorly lit areas.

What they can be sure of is that there are at least two dog-sized creatures. A couple different people describe the shape of the animal's heads as lizard-like but with large, prominent fangs. Another three people aren't that specific but do agree the creatures seemed vaguely reptilian. At least one woman suggests that it almost seemed like the one she'd seen had six legs, but insists that was probably from how fast it moved. The teenage boy from the article they interview at the hospital insists it was eight legs, though his brother swears it's just because the kid really hates spiders. It's not a report they can dismiss out of hand when the brother won't give a straight answer about how many legs he thought it had. All of the witnesses they talk to reluctantly admit the creatures had large glowing white eyes, while four of them describe the eyes as compound or insectoid. Likewise, almost all of them agree the creatures made a sound like barking when confronted. They also all agree that the creatures were dark brown, but reports are split nearly half between people swearing they were covered in densely matted fur and those sure they had scales. 

Those are the direct facts, insomuch as they can consider any of it factual when the witnesses can't entirely agree. The more general suppositions Sam and Dean agree on as they discuss the case back at the motel are that whatever the creatures are, they are they're highly territorial, but they probably don't actually feed on humans. At least, none of the victims they know of so far have sustained more than minor bites and lacerations, and there don't seem to be any new missing person's cases since the creatures were first spotted around the town. 

Unfortunately, put together, no combination of details calls any particular creatures to mind. The closest match is to hellhounds or black dogs, but they're too solid and visible for either even if the subtle details of appearance matched, so even hybrids or offshoots are not likely. They don't have any humanoid characteristics which rules out any of the lesser snake gods, and nothing about the descriptions beyond a generic reptilian nature is like a kappa or basilisk. Insect-based monsters as a concept aren't entirely novel to the Winchesters, but neither brother knows of any immediate matches in that respect, either. 

While Sam continues to try additional search parameters and different phrasings on the internet, Dean maps out the attack sites, trying to get an idea of where the creatures might be holing up during the daylight hours. If they're nocturnal, surely they have to have some kind of den. He expects to find them centering around a wooded area where there might be a cave or something. Since they seem to turn hostile whenever they encounter people but there haven't been that many attacks, instead he finds himself frustrated when there's no immediately obvious geographical pattern, even after omitting the sightings that didn't lead to attacks. Considering how close to the town many of them are, it doesn't make any sense at all. It isn't until he starts wondering about the sewer system in connection to them potentially dwelling underground that the map of sightings begins to make sense. All of the attacks have taken place relatively close to outlets from the sewer system. _Yahtzee_ , Dean thinks, and fills Sam in on what he's discovered.

Sam, unfortunately, is still coming up empty on his part of the research. Whatever these things are, they don't seem to be very common. Frustrated he's not getting anywhere and that it's starting to head into evening with no progress, Sam puts in a call to Bobby for help who doesn't have any immediate ideas either, but promises to look into it. 

Needing a break, they head out to grab a quick bite to eat at a burger joint called Fat Patty's before returning back to the motel to switch clothes into something more sewer-worthy. They also stock up on all the basics in terms of weapons, hoping they'll find something that will stick if they do find the creatures. As ready as they're going to get, they set out. It would be more prudent to wait until they had a better idea of what they're dealing with, but the number of attacks in the area has been slowly escalating. They can't necessarily afford that level of caution, and besides - with as vague and contradictory as the descriptions from the witnesses have been they might have better luck if they can get a look at the creatures for themselves.

Unfortunately, all their effort manages to gain them is a few hours spent getting unpleasantly dirty with substances best not considered or smelled too closely. Either the creatures are out roaming right now with no demarcated lair they can identify when it isn't occupied, or they haven't found the right area yet. Even though the town isn't that big, the amount of sewer space is not inconsiderable. 

They're in the middle of returning the manhole cover of the hole they've climbed out of to its proper place, both looking forward to getting back to the motel to take turns in the shower, when a woman's slightly husky voice interrupts them from the darkness of a nearby alley. “Oh, lemme guess. You're hunters. Well, either that or you're a couple of pervs that get off on doin' it in sewer filth. Hey, I won't judge.”

Sam and Dean drop the cover into place with a clang and turn in unison. Striding into full view under the streetlights, a brunette in tight black leather pants meets their startled gazes with amusement. She's probably Sam's age or slightly younger and she's wearing a black leather jacket and a tank top almost the same shade of eye-catching red that her lips are painted. Both of the brothers do a bit of a double take, trying to reconcile the image with her knowledge of hunting. 

Dean immediately attempts his most engaging flirtatious smile, despite the grime they're both covered in. “That'd be us,” his face screws up in dismay before he clarifies quickly, “The hunters part, I mean. And you?”

“Not quite, but something like that. Didn't think hunters came as young and cute as you two – guess you're here about the lacansilio?

“ Lacansilio?” Sam asks. “Is that what these are?”

The woman raises an eyebrow at them and asks with more than a hint of disbelief in her voice, “You boys are crawling the sewers for them and you didn't figure out what they were first?”

Sam starts to stammer out something about research, but Dean just shrugs and speaks over him, owning it. “What can I say, we live on the edge.”

She returns a slow, subtle smile before replying. “I can dig that. Name's Faith. Usually I prefer to work alone, but considering the amount of sewer time these bad boys are gonna require and the timeline we're on, you boys wanna compare notes?”

“Might as well,” Dean says. “I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam.”

He's trying for nonchalant, but in Sam's opinion his brother is obviously overeager to spend time with the attractive woman. Despite the time in the sewers, the prospect of finally having a lead has him in a good enough mood to find his brother's usual woman-chasing antics at least slightly more amusing than annoying. 

“Wait,” she says. The smile on her face is a different one now, much brighter and framed by dimples. “Get out, are you the Winchester boys?”

“I take it you've heard of us,” Dean asks, his voice clearly intrigued but just a touch wary now. Their reputation with other hunters can vary quite a lot depending on who those other hunters have been talking to.

“Caught some talk, here and there.” She says coyly, eyeing them both up and down now with obviously increased interest.

“Good things, I hope,” Dean replies, flirtatiously. Sam knows his brother isn't as unconcerned as he's trying to seem, but he's not really enjoying being in the middle of this.

The way her eyes light up indicates she's definitely got a reply to that, but Sam rolls his own eyes and interrupts, wanting to redirect them both to more pressing concerns, “So, the monsters?”

They tell Faith the name of the hotel they're staying at and the room number, agreeing to meet up in about an hour once the two of them have had enough time to grab a quick shower. Sam's just pulling a clean t-shirt down over his still slightly damp hair when there's a knock on the door. 

Dean goes to look out the peephole and tucks his gun back into his waistband after seeing it is Faith as expected. Both of them are reassured when she passes right over the salt line without issue. The Winchesters aren't quite as paranoid as Bobby, but it wouldn't be the first time a monster tried to trick them by playing human and inserting itself into their case. She gives the room a series of quick glances, and Dean can tell her eyes don't pass over the odd bulges in their weapon's bag or the salt on all the thresholds without taking notice. 

Without so much as a by-your-leave, she plops down on the edge of Dean's bed nearest the door, and starts filling them in on what she knows. Sam takes a seat on his own bed and Dean at the table as they listen.

“So here's the sitch. These lacansilio, they're like a totally messed up hybrid of lizards and spiders on steroids. Wicked gross and pretty rare - I'm not surprised you didn't find anything on 'em. They tend to stay away from people most of the time, and they don't kill often. One big exception - mating season, yo. Every ten years they get some kinda instinct to seek each other out and start gettin' frisky. Might be just a couple, might be a whole monster orgy down in those sewers.”

“Definitely not a context you really want to hear the word orgy in. So if this is a mating thing, we have to worry about baby creatures in a nest somewhere?” Dean asks.

“Well, yeah. And no. Those kills? They aren't usually from the mommy and daddy monsters. Once they mate and their eggs hatch, the little buggers swarm and eat everything fleshy in their paths, 'til all they got left to eat is each other. The last few biggest and baddest to survive head off in opposite directions, which is why there ain't very many of 'em.”

“Right. So track the parents, kill the parents, and destroy the nest. You got a plan on how to get it done?”

Sam interrupts before Faith can answer, “Wait, hold on a minute. You said something earlier, something about a timeline?”

“Right. Considering when the sightings here started up and the length of their mating cycle, I figure we only got a good one, maybe two more days to find their nest before this whole town becomes an all-you-can-eat monster buffet. That's too much sewer for one girl to handle, even if she's as awesome as I am.”

She turns her attention to Dean before adding, “As to tracking and killing 'em? The spider part means they spin webs around their nest sites, should be pretty obvious when we start getting close. Ain't no real trick to taking them out either, so long as we beat the swarm to hatching. Your standard beheading on the adults and we just gotta smash the eggs.” 

Dean pulls out the city maps of the sewers he was working with before and together they compare notes about which parts of the sewer they've respectively covered so far. Before Faith heads out so they all can all start over tomorrow after getting some sleep, they make a few vague plans about how to cover the remaining ground. The brothers still have more than a couple questions about Faith, but she does seem to know what she's talking about – Sam was even further reassured by googling the name she'd given the monster and pulling up two obscure hits that nevertheless fit. Bobby, likewise, thinks he may have heard the name before, though he can't recall any specifics. For the moment, it's been a long enough day already and tomorrow isn't looking any more fun. 

Although Sam and Dean aren't particularly happy with the idea of exploring a dark unfamiliar sewer alone, the three of them immediately split up to cover more ground. After what Faith said about how soon the creatures might swarm, they can't afford not to. 

The next few hours are a long, smelly slog through dark tunnels for Dean, listening carefully and trying to see around the limited area illuminated by the beam of the flashlight he's carrying. He spends most of that time trying not to be bored or inattentive, and eventually it pays off when the light reflects slightly off some webbing strung across one of the tunnels. It's pretty clearly what he's been looking for, because it's way too big and a weird greenish color to be from any standard kind of spider. Since they weren't sure just how many of the creatures were down here, Dean is pulling out his phone to see if he can get enough of a signal to call the others when he freezes at the sound of a faint scrabbling coming from a side tunnel, shortly followed by a low barking growl. 

Turning around as slowly as he can manage and keeping his light pointed down to try and avoid provoking an attack or flight response, Dean sees one of the creatures. The witnesses' reports did not do them justice, the creature is even uglier than he imagined. Roughly the size of an adult Saint Bernard and built as massively, the creature's compound eyes are lit from within by an eerie glow that's a sickly shade of white, and something that is hopefully saliva and not venom drips off two sets of menacing fangs. Worse than the visual, however, is that as he's trying to slowly go for his weapon with his free hand, he hears the creature's second growl echoed in stereo from a second source all too close behind him. 

Cursing himself internally for not hearing the creatures approaching, Dean whirls, bringing up the flashlight in hopes of blinding the one that is already mid-leap for his throat. He braces himself to fend it off until he can get his machete free. Before it makes contact, though, a dark blur comes flying out of a side tunnel to tackle the creature into a roll. Faith comes up with her own machete out and slices its head off with one clean blow. It's probably the most graceful kill he's ever seen, and it would be totally hot if it hadn't happened so suspiciously fast. He's not entirely sure a human can move like that. 

Dean doesn't let it distract him for more than a few seconds, though, as he turns towards the second creature and dispatches it almost as easily, if not quite so showily. By the time he's turned back around, Faith has taken out a third creature he hadn't even noticed yet. 

Internally pouting a little at being outscored, Dean complains, “Well that was almost too easy.” 

Faith gives him an incredulous look. “Dude, I swear, if you just jinxed us and the nest hatches before we get there, your ass is mine.”

Dean smirks. “Is that supposed to be a threat or an incentive?” 

She just smirks back and tosses her machete from one hand to the other. “Wouldn't you like to know? Save it for later, pretty boy, let's get this done.” 

Dean goes ahead and pulls his phone out as they move cautiously down the tunnel. Although the signal is wavering between one and two bars he goes ahead and sends a text to Sam with their approximate location and intended heading. The two of them make good progress through the dark tunnels, though they do move with decent caution; they've already seen one more creature than their eyewitnesses had reported. They swiftly dispatch another pair of creatures that don't hear their approach as they move through tunnels that are ever more heavily webbed the further they go. 

Dean would really like to ask Faith a few questions, but both stealth and time are of the utmost essence with the nest an unknown distance away and full of eggs due to hatch into a ravening swarm on an unknown schedule. Still, he can't help wondering about how fast and skilled she was taking out those creatures, and the thoughts are distracting enough he nearly walks through a huge patch of webbing stretched across the bottom of the tunnel like a trip net. 

The only thing that saves him from either face planting in things he doesn't want to think about or being covered in monster web goo _and_ all the rest is Faith suddenly pushing him backwards. This time there's no denying it, the speed at which she moved and the force she pushed him with were definitely not human. A thrill of adrenaline runs through him, along with a slight spike of disappointment. “Okay, what are you?”

“Damn, you noticed that, huh? Couldn't notice where you're walking, but - this gonna be a problem, hunter?” The confrontational stance she takes makes it clear she thinks that if he makes it an issue, it's gonna be a problem for _him_. She's not the least bit afraid, and considering her strength and speed and unknown nature, he figures she has good reason. 

Still, Dean isn't exactly one to back down from a monster, even a complete unknown. So he belligerently restates his original question as a statement, “Depends on what you are.”

Faith rolls her eyes. “I'm a hot chick with super powers, baby,” she says, and then continues when he's clearly not amused, raising her hands defensively. “Okay, okay. So I said I was something like a hunter, I am. 'Cept, I come from a world where girls like me get all chosen by mystical forces to do it.” Off his skeptical look, she explains further, “I was chasin' this nasty seven foot purple demon guy and some mojo he was working tossed us both through a portal to end up in your world.”

Dean snorts in disbelief. “You realize that sounds completely made up, right?”

“Maybe, but hey, you know I passed all your monster tests. I ain't a demon or a shifter and if you didn't notice, I totally saved your ass earlier. I'll do any other tests you want later, but first we gotta get this nest. Now you with me, or am I gonna have to knock you out and do it all by my lonesome?” 

There's no question about the challenge in her voice, and Dean has to admit she has a point. Of course he doesn't discount the idea that she could be trying to lure him into the monster's nest for some nefarious reason. Still, what she'd told them had checked out with what little Sam could find, and these creatures have been menacing the local population. Better to just go along and stay ready for anything. 

“Fine. Let's do this.” Dean gestures down the tunnel for her to lead the way. 

The webbing strung across the sides of the tunnel increases even more, and it gets impossible for them not to at least brush up against it, especially when they run into a sixth creature that comes barking out of a side tunnel at a skittering run and manages to knock both of them around. They also have to step their way carefully over three more webbing traps. Faith walking ahead of him the whole time does make it increasingly hard to concentrate on their surroundings for a more distracting reason than boredom, too. Finally, however, they reach the major junction containing the nest.

They know they have to be approaching something different as the tunnel in front of them slowly becomes illuminated with an unsteady and sickly yellow light. When they finally step from the smaller tunnel into the more open space of the junction, it becomes clear that the light is emanating from a massive glowing mound of eggs and webbing. All together, it's nearly as tall as Dean and it dominates the center of the space. Each of the eggs is pulsing with individual light, but the whole mound is in-sync, as if to some shared heartbeat. And it's not just the mound of eggs that looks like something out of a weird B horror movie, this whole section of tunnel is coated in weird monster substances that have Dean already writing off his entire current wardrobe. It's a pretty unique and disturbing sight, much like the monsters who created it. They are careful in their approach to the chamber and check all around the mound, but there are no other parent creatures here, at least for the moment. 

“You said we had to smash the eggs, right? I don't guess we could get away with just setting the whole mound on fire?” Dean asks hopefully.

“Sorry, hot stuff. You'll have to spank your inner pyro later - their webbing doesn't burn. We're gonna have to get down and dirty for this one.” 

Faith says it with a wink, but ripping through the webbing is exactly that, dirty and tiresome. Still, it's better than the town getting eaten, so if the webbing sticks unpleasantly to his hands and arms and clothes, if he starts sweating almost immediately making the whole task that much more gross, well, that's part of being a hunter. Although it'd be nice if Sam would get his Sasquatch ass in gear and show up to lend them an additional set of hands so the task would go that much faster. 

He wipes off his hands as best he can and pulls out his phone, ready to text Sam again – it has been quite a while and he's starting to get a little worried at the radio silence – but he's already got a message waiting from Sam. Apparently he got turned around in the tunnels somewhere and is going to be a little delayed. So much for this going any faster. If Sam doesn't manage to show up until after they've smashed the whole mess, Dean is so going to push his brother straight into the biggest, sludgiest bit of monster goo.

Which is not to say that the job is entirely without its perks. Faith had stripped off her jacket and left it back outside in the slightly less disgusting corridor. So currently, whether she bends over the eggs facing towards him or away, it's a pretty great view. Of course, he quickly realizes he's not the only one sneaking peeks, either. She raises an eyebrow at him once or twice, but he's not exactly embarrassed, and when he catches her looking again, it's not in him to let the moment pass without saying something. 

“See something you like?”

“You do know you're covered in wicked gross monster crap right now?” Despite her words and the tone she delivers them in, Faith gives him a more deliberate long and lingering once over. 

He does know that, and he knows she is, too. Yet Dean finds himself strangely not at all bothered by that fact, taking a few steps closer to her. “Hazard of the job.”

“Too true. The thing about what you call hunting? Always makes me crave two things.” She drawls out the word crave suggestively, as she takes her own deliberate, stalking steps in his direction.

Dean raises an intrigued eyebrow, and replies, “Just two?” 

Another step closer by both of them and they're suddenly separated by less than a foot of space. Up close, the slight sheen of sweat on Faith gleams in the strange light and the expression in Faith's brown eyes tells him clearer than anything else he isn't the only one feeling incredibly wound up right now. Before he can make another move, suddenly Faith's lips are slotting over his own and there's a hand firmly gripping his ass. Dean's always been perfectly willing to let his partners take the driver's seat if that's the way they want it, so he certainly doesn't object to Faith's enthusiasm. He responds by grabbing onto her waist to pull her hips sharply against his own, and opening his own mouth just enough to let her tongue slip between his lips where she's insistently sliding it against them. 

He catches a vague taste of something fruity on his tongue as it comes to meet hers and he has the fleeting thought she must be wearing flavored lipstick. The thought is gone just as fast, since Dean has far more pressing issues to concentrate on – namely how Faith is pressing and rubbing her lithe body up against his own, one leg hooked around his to put them at the perfect height against one another. She's all but straddling one of his thighs, rubbing up and down in such a way to give both of them a teasing friction, a building urgency only only enhanced by the feel of her breasts against his chest. 

Dean does love a woman who takes charge, but being passive isn't exactly his style. So when she moves from his mouth to leaving little bites on his neck, he slides the thin straps of her tank top and bra off of one shoulder, cupping his hand around the freed breast, playing with the nipple between the tips of his fingers. For a second, he thinks he hears some kind of strange noise beyond the two of them, but the thought it quickly lost when Faith makes a little gasp at a slightly harder tug and presses one thigh firmly against the tented fly of his jeans. He slides a hand into her hair and gets her mouth back to his own, where she bites almost too harshly at his lower lip and moves her hips away before slowly bring them back to swivel teasingly against him before reaching downwards to unfasten his jeans. Just as she's finally sliding her hand into his boxers, suddenly a wave of cold wetness comes from nowhere, leaving both of them shocked and spluttering. 

Dean looks over at Sam, now dripping wet and suddenly a lot more clear-headed, but irate regardless. He blinks a few times to try and get the droplets of cold water off his eyelashes. “What the hell, man?”

“C'mon, Dean, I do _not_ need to see that!” Sam exclaims, dropping his hands from where they're still poised from chucking the bucket of freezing water over the two of them. The way he's so carefully not quite looking at them would be comical if the situation wasn't so strange. They're in the middle of a damn monster lair still filled with too many eggs, both of them now even further covered in gross monster goo. What had he and Faith been thinking?

“Dammit, Sam!” Embarrassed and more than a little confused, Dean resorts to anger. “Where'd you even come from? What took you so long? And why do you have a bucket, anyway?”

“I was here yelling at you two for five minutes before I went and got the water! There's obviously some kind of aphrodisiac property to the nest's webbing that affects humans. I've got the Impala topside at the nearest manhole cover; after I got turned around down here it was just faster to go topside and drive to the general area where you guys were.”

“You are such a geek,” Dean says, for lack of any other response. This isn't the most awkward situation of his life, but that says more about the weird awkward situations he's ended up in before than the normalcy of the current moment. Dean reaches between them, where Faith is still standing too close, and carefully re-zips his pants. 

“Should we get, I don't know, gloves or something?” Dean asks, eyeing the remaining eggs dubiously over Faith's shoulder.

Faith slides the strap of her bra and tank back in place and pats Dean on the chest twice, and winks at Sam before replying, “Nah.” She suits action to words, walking over and grabbing and smashing some of the eggs from the top of the remaining pile at the center of the nest. “We're mostly there already, lets just get this finished up if you boys can control yourselves that long.”

Dean is so ready to argue with that, because he certainly wasn't the only one whose libido got out of hand down here, but she's right. They still need to get this job done as quickly as possible, and the two of them are already coated in the stuff anyway. 

With the three of them fully committed to destroying the nest, it's only a matter of perhaps fifteen minutes more work before all of the eggs are sufficiently obliterated. At least part of that is because they have to take turns taking the bucket back to retrieve fresh cold water to dump on themselves when they start being too affected by whatever it is in the damn monster webbing that's screwing with them. 

Once they're finally done, standing around in the ruins of the nest, all some degree of dripping wet and yet still covered in slimy web and egg remains, Dean suggests they go out and sweep the sewers again to make sure they got all the adults, but Faith says it's not really necessary. The adults usually get eaten by their own young, but in rare cases they don't the creatures are at the end of their life cycle and will be dead in a matter of days at most anyway. With the size of the sewers, they'd probably just be wasting time. 

“So we're done, then?” Dean asks, hopefully. This hunt hasn't been one of his favorites - completely covered in monster goo and he barely got to kill anything. 

“Well, we're done here,” Faith laughs, a low chuckle that does things to Dean's still slightly-confused libido. “I don't know about you two, but after a shower, I've got a date with that diner on the edge of town.” She saunters off towards the exit, hips swinging, as she throws the words, “Gotta satisfy at least one craving,” back over her shoulder.

An hour later, they trade hunting stories over plates of burgers and cheese fries, and Faith explains a little more about being a Slayer. Just as they're getting ready to settle up the bill, the boys get a call from Bobby wanting to know if they've finished their hunt because he has an urgent case. They go their separate ways after exchanging numbers, idle talk of getting together again sometime passing between them that comes to nothing. At least not before they run into each other again over the corpse of a college professor frozen solid in his office on a hot summer day in Texas. But that's another story.

**Author's Note:**

> On the off chance anyone's wondering, while I absolutely could see this going forward from here, this was specifically written for a challenge and I don't currently have any concrete plans for a followup. Thanks for reading!


End file.
